Like Chalfont I had a horrendous time in the post-natal ward at The Royal Surrey 23 years ago, with my oldest. I was a young mother, I was a single mother, I was treated as though I didn't know what I was on about when I said that my newborn had stopped breathing several times, but restarted when I put my hand to her.
Sleep aponea runs in my family; my aunt (maternal) married my uncle (paternal) and their oldest two children literally stopped breathing in my aunt's arms as tiny newborns - fortunately, she was a nurse, so knew what she was doing and was married at the time she gave birth... which meant that people listened to/took her concerns seriously. My father also has sleep aponea, and although I've never been tested, my mother thinks there's a strong chance I had it as a baby, too. This was all on my notes, because the possibility of my baby dying? Not high on my list of priorities...
The midwives on the delivery side were all fantastic - could not have been nicer/kinder if they'd actively tried! I still think of the one who delivered my daughter with genuine fondness/gratitude. On the post-natal side, however...! I was told that I was imagining it, to stop being "a silly little girl" because I was "a mother now with a baby who needs you to grow up", and essentially left doubting my own observations of my (beautiful) newborn. It had also been a quick delivery (4.5 hours from start to finish) after a pregnancy spent in and out of hospital with one thing and another. I was in shock, like most new mothers, and I think it's only that which caused me to trust the midwives (one of whom had sneered at me when my - male and very platonic - best friend called to see how we were doing - even now, my spine tightens at the memory of the way she literally looked me, standing there cradling my precious baby in my arms, up and down with a judgemental look on her face). I know who my daughter's father is - and it's not the male (and still very platonic!) best friend... but he was the one who stopped me from doing something daft during my pregnancy and was always there for me, no matter the time of day or night! I'd also had an epidural during back-to-back contractions which left my arm and leg on one side not working as well as they could have been... but the euphoria of my baby having been born safely, and her huge eyes, and the rush of endorphins numbed my comprehension of absolutely no support being given/offered to either me, or to any of the mothers on the post-natal ward alongside me.
When my daughter was 3 days old, the day after we were released from the hospital... she stopped breathing. Had to be resuscitated by paramedics, in fact. Fortunately, she was in my arms at the time, because if she'd been in her crib... she wouldn't be here today! She was born with central sleep aponea, as opposed to obstructive (which is weight/age related). Essentially, she was born missing the part of her brain that "tells" her to breathe and how/when to do it. My daughter is one of the lucky ones, because other parts of her brain have, over time, taken over the reflex which, let's face it, we all take for granted, but she was only discharged from various clinics 19 months ago - and she's 23 now. It's not affected her life, because she was rushed to Frimley Park, after I refused to have her set foot in The Royal Surrey again... and she was treated with the urgency and dedication that the bloody midwives should have instigated at the hospital she was born in. Her sleep aponea (and she admits that even in the middle of the day, when she's wide awake, if she's concentrating on something else... she'll still forget to take a breath!) was so bad that when my 14 year old was born, he was fitted with various monitors from birth... as his sister ought to have been.
Except, I was a young single mother, in shock, who couldn't possibly know the difference between a baby taking a breath... and a baby who wasn't.
Awful place. I didn't complain to PALS, because I didn't know about it at the time and, to be honest, I was a bit preoccupied with caring for my potentially brain damaged daughter (she's not, far from it, in fact!). There was no support, just attitude.
Yet the delivery and ante-natal care there was superb!